The Higher You Aim
by Speechwriter
Summary: -OLD work- My mom used to tell me that the higher you aim, the farther you have to fall. I've aimed about as high as it gets: Li Syaoran, son of a lord. And then there's me, Sakura, the blacksmith's daughter, who's not planning to fall any time soon. SS
1. Chapter 1

* * *

_Italics… thoughts…_

CAPITALS ARE YELLING!!!

Normal letters are regular type, narration, etc.

"Quotes are talking," the author said redundantly.

* * *

Summary:

My mother used to tell me that the higher you aim, the farther you're gonna have to fall. And let me tell you, I think I've just aimed about as high as it can get: Li Syaoran, the son of a lord. And then there's me, Sakura Kinomoto, the blacksmith's daughter, who's not planning to fall any time soon.

* * *

I knew I'd be someone different from the first day I saw my dad come home from work sweaty and disgruntled. _Nuh-uh,_ I thought. _That's not me._ Totally middle-class, that's us. Me and my brother, and my dad, the village blacksmith. School? Yeah, right. That's for rich kids. My dad always says that the only thing you need in life is survival, whatever it takes.

And look where that got him. Swollen fingers from hitting them too often with a hammer or some other large, metal tool. Looked down on by everyone. Barely enough to get by on.

I mean, don't get me wrong, I love my dad – but sometimes I sit there, and I wonder if he's right.

I'm twelve. My friend, Tomoyo, the seamstress's daughter, 12. Her betrothed, Eriol, the miller's son, 12. Our village, in the middle of nowhere, in the midst of gently rolling hills and lots of sheep and lakes with cute little goslings swimming around on the surface. Which is great, except there's nothing there. Our country, in the middle of a war. That's my life. That's what I'm born into. That's all I've ever known.

And I know I want more.

So there's a huge manor about a mile north, perfectly situated on top of a hill, like it's overlooking its domain or something. Me and Tomoyo, we usually stay at home, but when Eriol's there, me and him usually team up against her and we end up going out of the village, running around, swimming fully clothed in the river. We even went to that manor once.

We snuck up on it, like it was a wild beast that'd as soon attack us as see us. Behind a hill, we surveyed it and pretended to be daring spies who had to infiltrate the manor's security system. There was a wall going around the low hill and some of the surrounding area. We slipped through the large gate, and gasped at the sight. It was filled with lush courtyards, trees, and orchards, filled with little ponds and ornaments and stone benches that made me want to stay there forever.

Remembering our mission, we slowly crept up the back of the hill towards the actual, huge building. Eriol first, then me, then Tomoyo. We stood with our backs flat against the huge stones, and edged under windows and around gutters. I looked at a long pipe, which went up, and up, and up, and looked at Eriol. We smirked and looked at Tomoyo, who met our gaze as hers widened in horror.

I shimmied up the pipe, the large stones providing perfect footholds, the summer sun sizzling at my bare calves. I grappled with its slippery surface for a moment, and then grabbed onto a stone jutting from the wall and hoisted myself higher.

I was three stories up, I looked down, and Eriol was right behind me, and Tomoyo right behind him. I grinned and swung onto the roof.

"Whoa. You can see for ages up here," said Eriol, awestruck, looking out over the sunlit land.

"Yeah," Tomoyo said, and looked as well.

Unimpressed, I looked around the roof. It was slanted, and black, and had four chimneys.

I leaned precariously over the edge of the roof and looked into a window upside-down. It was deserted.

"Hey, guys," I whispered. "Wanna take… a closer look?" I snickered and pointed at the window.

"Sakura," Eriol breathed. "You're insane."

"Yeah. No. I've gone far enough. I'm going back," said Tomoyo stubbornly. "I'll make a nice dress or something." And so saying, she slipped back down the pipe and headed back, closely followed by Eriol, who gave me a regretful look.

Tomoyo was so lucky to be engaged to someone decent. I'd have to be married off to someone repulsive, most likely. I peered into the window once again, my tunic hanging off me, my breeches rippling in the light breeze. It looked beautiful in there, with cream wallpapering and carved furniture.

I had made up my mind.

I silently dropped down onto the windowsill and undid the window's catch. As soon as I was inside, I shut the window, surprised no one could hear my breathing in the huge place.

There was something under my feet. It looked like a, a piece of cloth. I curiously inspected it. It was dyed, and soft, with little bundles of rope coming off the end. I recalled Tomoyo having one of these things. A, a- what did she call it? A rug, that's right. This one was huge.

I crept around the room, looking at the furniture and the tall shelves on the wall, lined up with rows of what must have been books. Things with stories written in them, things that you were supposed to learn from if you went to school. I took one down and opened it, expecting diagrams or something. It was filled with scribbles, with tiny characters. I squinted at them, trying to see if they were pictures. Eh. I replaced it on the shelf, and hardly believing my own nerve, snuck out of the room.

I was in some sort of hallway, filled with stones that froze my bare feet, with yet more rugs on the ground and pictures on the wall. My heart thudded nervously, erratically against my ribcage, so hard that it was startling that dirt didn't fall from in-between the stones from the vibrations. I looked from left to right shiftily. There were more rooms! I peeked through a small hole under the knob of one. That room was deserted as well, so I pushed open the door curiously. Inside was a bedroom with a bed that looked too good to sleep in, too good even to touch. There was nothing much else there except a few windows, so I exited.

I looked through another one of the funnily shaped holes in another door, and my breath caught in my throat. There was a person in this one. A stern-looking man with a strong jaw and slanted eyes, with thick black hair. I stumbled down the hall, at the end of which I came to some interesting structures. They went downwards, curving, and looked like blocks had been taken out of the floor. I stepped down one. Step, step, step. I discovered that they went all the way down to the next floor! Then again, as none of the buildings in our village had more than a single story, the fact that I'd never seen these 'steps' wasn't surprising in the least.

There was another hall with numerous rooms. I continued down the steps all the way to the ground floor, tense excitement making me nearly forget how to breathe. I saw a pair of large double-doors at the end of this hall, but there were yet more doors lining this place, so I didn't exit yet.

I looked, startled, at one door. This one had no hole under the knob! How would I know if it was inhabited? Cautiously, I opened it a crack. Inside was a kitchen, with people working inside it. Before they could notice the door opening, I had shut it and dashed down to the next door. This one, too, had no hole, so I prayed as I opened the door. There was no one there. It had a large table, with a lot of paper on it, also filled with the type of scribbling I had seen inside the books upstairs. I shook my head and exited out of the window.

The sun was glorious in the yard of the huge manor. I frowned with barely restrained curiosity as I saw that there was a tall stone wall closing off a certain segment of it. I opened the wooden door and found myself inside yet another courtyard, even more beautiful than the ones before. The tall walls sent slanting shafts of shade over my face, and there was a solitary, drifting willow tree. There was stone all around a raised pond in the center of the courtyard, and flowering vines crept up the stone wall.

There was only one thing wrong with the picture.

Someone was inside, someone who had heard the door open and close, someone with brown hair and dark eyes.

Someone who had noble features and fancy clothing, someone who belonged to the manor, someone who was looking straight at me.

_Oh. _I was petrified, unable to think or budge an inch, frozen in his stare.

He stood up.

"Who are you?" he said, his cultured, clipped tone making me feel inferior somehow. "You're not supposed to be here, are you?"

He surveyed me, eyes taking in my stained tunic, my patches breeches, my torn stockings, my bare feet.

"Ah…" I said, unsure if he wanted a reply or if it was a purely rhetorical question.

"Where are you from? Why are you here?"

Oh dear, unanswerable questions. _Hm. I'm from the commoners' village over yonder, and I'm here to trespass._ That might not go down too well. However, he wasn't calling the stern-looking guards whom I'd seen at the front door.

"Are you from the village?" he said after a long silence.

"Yes," I said firmly. Finally, a question I could respond to.

"I'm Syaoran Li, Lord Kazuhiro's son. What's your name?"

"Sakura," I said. There was something strange about him. Although he looked my age, maybe even a little older, he acted like he was eight or nine, trusting and telling me more than I'd tell anyone.

"Are you allowed in here?" he asked. I shook my head.

"I don't think so," I said uneasily.

"Don't worry, I won't tell," he reassured, and again I got that strange sense of childishness. "What do you do in the village?"

"Um, my dad makes stuff," I said, again making sure not to reveal too much.

"Ah, an artisan," he said interestedly. I pretended to know what the word meant.

"Sure…"

"Where do you go to school?" he asked brightly.

I nearly spluttered with laughter until I saw that he was serious.

"I don't go to school," I said. His face registered mild surprise.

"Really? Then what do you do? Do you play an instrument?"

"Do I do what?" I asked, confused. An instrument? What was that?

"An instrument. You know, like the horn or the harpsichord," he said earnestly.

"Um, no," I said, baffled.

"Oh… then what do you do all day?" he asked, confused.

"I don't know, I just-" I realized that I didn't really do anything on a regular basis. "I just kinda … play," I said lamely, knowing how juvenile I sounded.

"Really? You're so lucky!" he said, with something close to envy in his voice. "I wish I didn't have to learn anything."

"Yeah, but you can't do anything without learning things," I argued.

"I guess," said the boy – what was his name? – Li. "Anyway, you'd better go before the guards come looking for me." He stood, and, as he scratched his face, I noticed something horrible. On his left hand, there was a carved wooden pinky finger, stuck onto the knuckle! I stared openly.

"What is it?" he said.

"Ah, nothing," I said, looking away from his hand suddenly.

"Is it my finger?" he said sadly. "It had to get cut off when I got really sick when I was younger." I winced at the image.

"I'm sorry," I managed. "I should go now."

"Wait," he said. "Can you come back tomorrow?"

"Uh," I said. "I don't know…"

"Well, if you can, I'll wait in this garden at four o'clock," he said, smiling at me. I nodded slowly, dashed out the door, and slipped out of the manor's grounds completely and utterly unseen.

Compared to the manor, my village, which had never seemed too plain before, looked dull and bare, even with the people bustling around, preparing for the festival the next day. The brightly colored paper fluttering in the breeze caught my eye, and I started to help decorate, however useless the adornment looked in my eyes.

* * *

**Hope you liked it. Review, por favor! You know that makes my day!**

**Don't worry, they'll get older soon. Really soon. (Wink)**

**Gollum**


	2. Chapter 2

**Yo! Thanks for the reviews/faves/alerts, everyone. I heart.**

* * *

_Italics… thoughts…_

CAPITALS ARE YELLING!!!

Normal letters are regular type, narration, etc.

Underlining is putting emphasis on stuff.

"Quotes are talking," the author said redundantly.

**PoV change: Bold**

* * *

Summary: 

My mother used to tell me that the higher you aim, the farther you're gonna have to fall. And let me tell you, I think I've just aimed about as high as it can get: Li Syaoran, the son of a lord. And then there's me, Sakura Kinomoto, the blacksmith's daughter, who's not planning to fall any time soon.

* * *

"And can you believe it, Eriol fell in!" I said, the pair of us laughing. 

"No way," he said. "What'd his parents say?"

"I don't know. I should ask Tomoyo, she'd probably know. So anyway, how's life here?"

"You know, learning. It's boring stuff, history and all that. Like I care," he snorted. I chuckled.

It's been four years since I met him. I've never been spotted by the manor's inhabitants other than Syaoran. He tells me about the places he goes with his dad, who's a diplomat, whatever that means. I think it's got something to do with the government, though, because Syaoran leaves to go to the capital every independence day. I've really gotten to know him; he's not childish anymore. He uses words I don't understand sometimes, but he makes an effort to speak so I can comprehend (another word I learned from him), which really makes me feel dumb. Maybe I am dumb. I don't know.

Syaoran's not just smart. He's also funny, and really nice to me. Once some other noble person came to the village, and when I said hello, he sort of sniffed and looked up, like I was some disgusting piece of dirt. I'm so glad Syaoran's not like that. It's nice to have someone I can tell everything to, because he's really not allowed at all to see any other kids like us. I'm the only one who's ever been inside the manor, and I'm the only one who's ever been caught. But I don't tell people the second bit. I haven't even told Tomoyo and Eriol that Syaoran exists. It's strange, putting a foot in both sides of my life. I wonder how they'd react if they knew about Syaoran.

"So, Syaoran. Where're you going next week? I think you told me, but I forgot."

"Oh. We're going to the capital again; my dad needs to sign some forms or something."

"What do you do when he's doing all that stuff?" I asked.

"I either watch, because I'm going to have to do that someday, or sit in my room and practice my horn."

"That sounds fun," I laughed.

"Not really."

"I was being sarcasmic," I said.

"You mean sarcastic?" he corrected, sounding amused.

"Yeah, whatever," I muttered, and shoved him. He laughed.

"Aren't you guys having a festival tomorrow?" he said.

"Oh, yeah, the festival of the moon," I responded.

"What do you do at festivals?" Syaoran inquired. I raised an eyebrow.

"Don't they have festivals in the capital and stuff?"

"Not really," he answered.

"Oh. Well. You eat a lot, and there are games and stuff, like where you throw things and try and knock milk bottles down to win candy. It's pretty fun."

"Man," he sighed. "I miss out on so much."

"Well, once you're old, you can order people to let you go to them," I said foolishly, in complete sincerity.

He laughed. "It doesn't work like that," he chuckled. "If I did that, they'd prepare boring political discussions for me to talk in, and that would be after I'd written an official edict allowing them to host me."

"What's an edict?"

"It's a decree, announcement, uh, law-ish kinda thing."

"Well then, why didn't you just say law?" I said.

"Hey, I have to talk like that all the time at home," he said defensively.

"Oh, I've gotta go," I said, looking at the sun. "It's almost sundown."

"Okay, well, see you tomorrow," he said, smiling at me with sparkling teeth. _How does he get them to stay that white?_ I pondered.

"Yeah, bye," I said, waved to him, and clambered over the wall of the courtyard into the gently sloping countryside.

We met in the small courtyard every three days. I'd sneak out of the village right after lunch and leave Syaoran's manor before sundown. At sixteen, I was given practically total freedom. I found myself slowly drifting away from Tomoyo and Eriol, as they'd started their official courtship. I didn't see why they needed to do that, I mean, they're gonna get married anyway. But apparently, according to my dad, there are certain marital and traditional complexities that needed to be obeyed. I swear, he talks like Syaoran sometimes.

**PoV change: Syaoran**

"Now, master Li, which spoon is this?"

"Um, the, ah, the second soup spoon?"

"WRONG! I don't understand why you can't learn this, master Li… You're so bright, you just don't apply yourself. Let's try again. Which fork is this?"

"The meat fork," I said confidently. He gave a curt nod and indicated another utensil. Oh god, I had no clue.

"Uh, the first-" I started.

"NO!" he screeched, face actually turning slightly red. "That's it for today," he said after a long silence, sounding resigned, sad, and tired. I felt slightly culpable. However, how was I supposed to memorize that many varieties of silverware? Sakura was right when she told me that there should just be one fork, knife, and spoon. After all, if the people in the village people could do it, I definitely could. I stood guiltily, bowed, and exited the room.

It was so hot in those clothes. I went up to my spacious quarters and removed the stuffy coat, vest, shirt, and undershirt. My bare chest was actually sweating. It was midsummer, and still I had to don these snobbish garments. I changed my stockings and tucked in hose for loose breeches, put on a loosely woven shirt, and went barefoot downstairs. The air was stifling, so heated I could see heat waves over the surface of one of our ponds.

Sakura was so lucky. Able to do as she wished, able to go where she liked… I looked at the fancily dressed guards standing by the gates and rolled my eyes, something Sakura had taught me that I had taken to doing quite frequently. I pitied them, with their huge hats and large overcoats, baking under the sun.

I sat in the courtyard where I meet Sakura every third day and longed to see her. When she came and told me about what happened in the village, I drank it in like water in the desert, absorbing all the information about these people. I never paid such rapt attention to my father, even with his endless lectures about who was who in the governmental branch. Father's the king's brother, so if he doesn't have a son and dies, I'm next in line for the throne, which makes it (according to my father) even more urgent to learn pro-pah etiquette. Ooh-la-la.

I remember four years ago, sitting here in the shade, hearing the door open, looking over, and seeing her. So strange. I'd never seen a girl my age before. I don't know who to compare her to, but she's very beautiful.

I don't know who I think of when I think of her: her, or the peasant girl who's so different from everything I've ever known.

**PoV change: Sakura**

I put up the lights, sighing. The festivals were fun, yes, but I'd rather do something else, something more… artistic. I wish I knew how to write. I told Syaoran that, and he laughed and said I'd never need to know how.

Thanks for that, Syaoran.

Eriol and Tomoyo were getting farther away from me. My dad was at work most of the day, and my brother left home a few years ago to search for somewhere that needed a blacksmith. Everyone thought I was weird because I didn't want to be a blacksmith like my father. What's attractive, I wondered, about hammering away at a piece of metal in a sweltering furnace? I definitely didn't know. The other children didn't talk to me, but that was okay, because they didn't seem like the types whom I'd like to meet anyway. The boys kicking dogs, pulling cats' tails, the girls shallow and always giggling about their betrothed. Bully for them.

I sat at the table.

"So, what have you been doing these days, Sakura?" asked my dad.

"Not much."

"Playing with Eriol and Tomoyo?"

"We don't play anymore, dad. We're sixteen. And they spend a lot of time together, you know, because they're betrothed and courting and stuff?"

"Oh. Well then, who do you spend time with?"

"Myself," I answered truthfully. I did spend time with myself. I swam against the current in the river on these hot days, trying to catch a swimming frog with my bare hands. I sat on the hills to dry off, and when I was certain no one was looking, I stripped naked and sat in the sun, almost seeing my skin turn a light golden tan color.

"Oh, really?" my dad said, putting down his bent fork and looking sad. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," I reassured. "Really. I like being by myself. It lets me think."

"You know, thinking isn't going to get you married," he said carefully, knowing I was sensitive about the subject.

"Dad, I don't want to get married."

"Well, then what do you want to do?" he asked, exasperatedly. We'd been over this subject a thousand times.

The third line of the scene: "I don't know. Just not… get married."

Fourth line. "But why?"

"I don't want to be just someone's wife! I want to be somebody!" I recited boredly.

"Sweetheart, you're a woman."

"And?"

"Never mind."

The scene was complete, and the aftermath, always the same, sat stagnant in the air, awkward. I sighed, went outside, dunked my plate in a barrel of rainwater, and went into my room.

The village always looked nicer on festival days. Maybe it was the promise of lots of food later in the day, maybe it was because everyone looked happy on festival days. I don't know, but that day, the village looked a treat, decked out in lots of cut paper and people milling around, throwing up lights and last minute decorations. I sat on my front step. Eriol and Tomoyo walked by, his arm around her waist, pulling her close. I waved half-heartedly. They didn't even see me.

I started to think about marriage. Sixteen was a good age, supposedly, for marrying, but I really didn't want to. Why get married too early to someone you don't love instead of waiting?

Always the romantic, Sakura, they'd say to me. Always the optimist. Marrying for love. After they'd start talking about money and children and what two people do when they loved each other very much, I'd roll my eyes, sigh, and leave. What a waste of a life. Just having a kid, then poof, you're dead, and it's fine, because you had a child. Of course, never having had sex, I don't know what's so great about it, but it sounds uncomfortable.

So what is worth doing? Let's see. There's always the useful, but sometimes painful and stressful, jobs: Tanner, blacksmith, tailor, cooper, and farmer. Yawn. I could go on, but just listing them makes me feel tired. How about the boring political jobs? Lord, lady, king, queen, prince, princess, la-di-dah, how wonderful. From what Syaoran tells me, it's a nightmare. And then there's what I want to do, artistic things: Author, artist, musician, even a performer, like on the stage. Now that's the life. Getting paid to do nothing, or something you never even had to work at to be good at. And it gets better: my lifelong ambition, have fun.

How great would that be, just talk and play around and climb trees and go skinny-dipping forever. I could live like that.

Dad said I hadn't left my latency phase yet. I didn't know what it meant. He said that it meant I wasn't yet interested in the opposite sex, to simplify. Which wasn't entirely true. I mean, I do notice when someone's attractive. I'm just not attracted.

I took some food, told dad I'd eat lunch away from the village, walked down the cobblestone streets to the village limits, and left it behind me as I ran into the hills. I decided to go halfway towards the manor and then stop at the dip between three large hills. The hills were perfect; I could lie on one and be perfectly shaded, yet on another one, be burned in minutes by the sun. Best, running between two of them was a small creek, about half my height deep.

I realized at the age of fourteen that the manor was not a mile away. It was in fact closer to four miles, which probably explained the hour or so it took to walk there. I'd casually brought up the subject to my dad. He said that we lived under a fiefdom. I wish frequently that people would talk so I'd understand them.

I reached the hills in around a half hour, when the sun was only an hour or so away from its peak. I sat on the sunny side of one of the large hills and ate the rough bread I'd brought, saving the cheese and grapes for later. It was a beautiful day. The festival would start at seven o'clock by the village clock. I was content just to sit for a while as the sun moved across the sky.

I looked from side to side nervously, grateful that the hills were set in a sort of circle, with only small gaps each one, like a small crater, or valley type thing. Slowly I pulled off my clothing and rolled down the hill, laughing, into the cool water.

It felt like ice when I first hit it, but it was actually quite warm, and once I stood up, it felt completely refreshing. I slumped against the sandy bank, feeling the water caress my bare body, looking up at the sun and its blue domain.

**PoV change: Syaoran**

Such a nice day. Such a nice day, and I'm stuck inside, attempting for two hours to memorize formulas, fords, and forks.

I groaned and slumped in my chair.

"Are you ready, master Li?"

"I suppose," I said curtly to my teacher as he entered. He was going to give me three sample questions from each area, I knew it. And if I missed one, poof, there goes another three hours of my life.

"Now. Which fork is this?"

"The meat fork," I responded.

"This one?"

"The, uh, ah, the greens and fruits fork."

"Very good. This fork?"

"The potatoes and creamed starches fork."

"I knew you could do it, if you'd only apply yourself, master Li. Good work. Now, which ford crosses the mighty river Chung?"

"The Xi Hang ford," I said boredly. I almost regretted making him feel like he was right about my application of myself. However, it would get me out of tutoring a few hours early, with any luck.

"The fourth subset of the Han river?"

"The Jenira ford."

"And lastly, the Riyadh river?"

"Hm. The Aarbis ford," I responded.

"The formula for the area of a circle?"

"Three point one four times the square of the radius."

"Sine formula for spherical geometry?"

"Sin(A) over Sin(a) is equal to Sin(B) over Sin(b) is equal to Sin(C) over Sin(c)."

"And any Pythagorean identity…"

"Sin squared A plus cos squared A equals one," I said assertively. He gave me a small smile, within which I detected a hint of… was that smugness?!

"Well, you have certainly proved me correct… and so I shall give you the rest of the day off. It is a nice day. Go play in the courtyard or something."

I stood, bowed, and before he could suddenly change his mind, I ran out of the hall and down the stairs, into the tiny courtyard.

It was nice, but boring; the same old thing again and again, the willow reaching out its leaves as if to touch me. I looked at the wall, and a mischievous plan began to form in my mind. Quickly I ran inside, told my father that I'd be in my room for the rest of the day, until the next day, most likely. I told him that I didn't feel quite well, and then lurched dramatically up the stairs. He merely nodded, engrossed in his forms.

I went into my room, shut the door, and locked it.

I changed into a plain linen shirt and old brown breeches, feeling the usual relief of disposing of my weighty clothing.

I peered out my window, and to my delight, spotted a large drainpipe to the left. Apprehensively, I reached out with one hand, grabbed the pole, swung outwards, and nearly lost my grip. My stomach lurched, but I clung to the large pipe and shut my window from the outside. Luckily, they didn't lock. I quickly put my other hand on the pipe and inched downwards. Upon reaching the ground, I looked up. There was no trace of my exit. I quickly hurried into the courtyard with the willow tree and shut the large wooden door behind me.

I looked up at the wall, which was a few feet taller than me. _How had Sakura done it?_ I slowly dug my bare foot into the gap between two stones. I grabbed two higher stones and placed my other foot above the first, the rough stones hurting my feet. I slipped, and, embarrassingly, fell on my behind. I looked to both sides to make sure none of the trees, bushes, or water had seen, and attempted the climb again. It was easier; my sharp eyes spotted particularly jutting stones to seize a hold of. Soon I threw my arms over the top of the wall, hoisted myself up, and leapt down.

I looked outside in wonder. Whenever we had gone to the capital, we were in a carriage, with the curtains drawn, so I had never actually seen the countryside we lived in. Eager to escape the manor's presence, I sprinted forwards, a light breeze tossing my hair. The hilly land was a beautiful emerald, small white flowers dotting its surface sometimes. I ran forwards and on and on and on, the velvet grass caressing my feet.

**PoV change: Sakura**

I hoisted myself out of the creek and sat in the sun for a while, its long rays kissing my abdomen. Slowly I turned over, the sun feasting on my shoulder blades. I shifted uncomfortably and put my clothes over my butt, which felt too hot for comfort. I mused briefly how awkward it would be if someone suddenly arrived.

I closed my eyes and laid my cheek on the grass, smelling the earth slightly. Suddenly, I heard a noise. I listened intently for a few seconds, reluctant to move, and decided it was some animal, as no further sound occurred. I laid my arms under my breasts, cushioning them from the grass, and sighed, releasing the tension in my chest.

**PoV change: Syaoran**

It was hard work, running up the hills. I reached a creek and took a small drink. I raised an eyebrow, feeling daring, and leapt fully clothed into it. I swam downstream. The creek took me between two hills. I floated on my back, looked to either side, and yelped. There was a person lying on the hillside.

**PoV change: Sakura**

I heard a noise, and turned my head. My eyes widened in shock, and I screamed.

The guy in the river immediately looked away, and I yanked on my clothes. I peered closer.

"Syaoran?!" I yelled incredulously. "What are you DOING? How long have you BEEN there?"

"I just swam downstream just now," he said to the other hill, still looking away. "Are you … clothed?"

"Good. And yes."

He got out of the creek and sat on the bank. I glared at him.

"Wait a second. Why are you here, anyway?" I asked.

"I escaped."

"What do you mean, escaped?"

"I left without permission, fled quickly and without notice, you know," he said.

"Hm."

I suddenly launched myself into a roll down the hill towards him, gaining momentum and giggling wildly. I stopped at the bank before I fell in, and sat next to him, dangling my feet in the water.

There was an extremely awkward lull.

"So, uh," he said. "Do you, um, do that often?"

Moron. I swear, he did that too often, asking awkward questions. No people skills. I frowned at him.

"Whyyyy?" I said, drawing out the 'I', and we both burst into laughter after another pause.

"Oh. Well. It's weird. Why do you do it?" he said, pushing further. I rolled my eyes.

"It feels good. And it's a nice day, stupid." I shoved him jovially, and he shoved me back. I attempted to push him into the creek, but I failed, merely falling on top of him. However, when he pushed me, I fell right in. I splashed him, irritated that my clothes were soaked, and he laughed his low, silvery laugh.

As I say, I do notice when someone's attractive, and Syaoran definitely was. He was the type of guy you'd classify under 'dark and handsome', with a devilish smile that could probably make someone feel faint or something. Teeth, shiny. Hair, messy. Muscles – oh, god, when he took off his shirt – they were there. Definitely good-looking. And rich, too. The lucky guy.

I scowled at him once more. He only laughed harder, and I got out and shoved him across the grass until he plopped in, also laughing. He reached out a hand and grabbed my ankle, pulling me in beside him. We engaged in a violent splashing contest. I hit his hand once, feeling the wooden pinky, and shuddered. Eventually we tired and merely sat in the warm water, our faces cold as the breezes hit them.

"It's so nice out here. You're so lucky," he said enviously, the water running over his muscled abs and lean arms.

"Why? You're here too, ain't you?" I said.

"Aren't you," he corrected superiorly.

"Yeah, yeah. But like I say. You're here now. So why so… whiny?"

"I'm not whining," he snapped. "It's just so annoying, how everyone else has more freedom than me."

"Freedom to do what, be another peasant with another job barely scraping by? Freedom to get married to someone I don't even love for money?" I said with a hollow laugh. "Look, being poor ain't all it's cracked up to be, loser," I grumbled. His hard gaze softened.

"Sorry, I just, you know. Sometimes you think your life's just horrible, you know?" he said, looking at the current rippling his garments.

"Yeah, I know how you feel," I murmured, also watching my clothes go with the flow.

"Anyway!" he said, jerking back to attention after a pause.

"Yeah. So."

"Are you engaged to anyone yet?" he said curiously.

"No, not yet. But I have this feeling my dad's been asking around, cause he keeps bringing it up," I muttered. "I don't wanna get married."

"Yeah, me neither. It's dumb how we don't get to pick, you know."

"Really? You don't either?" I asked, perking up slightly and looking at him.

"Eh, well," He looked away. "I kinda do. My dad brings like five girls and I have to choose between them, which is totally exasperating, awkward, and not really fair to the girls."

"Oh. Well. Yeah, that would be really awkward."

"I'd presume so, but seeing as I haven't really experienced it, I don't know. Maybe if they're understanding it won't be so bad."

"Oh god. I just had a great idea!" I exclaimed, looking into his eyes.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"You know the festival tonight?" I said.

"Uh-huh…"

"You should come!" I said, getting out of the creek and holding the front of my shirt away from myself to avoid it clinging to me.

"What? Me come to a festival? They'd notice!" he yelped.

"Who would notice?" I asked slyly.

"Uh, I don't know, the policemen?"

"What policemen?"

"You don't have policemen?!" he said, shocked.

"Uh, no… our village is like three roads. We don't need any policemen; we all know each other, and we wouldn't steal or stuff," I reasoned.

"Wow. That's really cool," he said. "But if you all know each other, then how come people wouldn't know me?"

"You're a traveler who decided to stop in for the night and noticed there was a festival," I invented. "We get travelers a lot, cause we're the only place in the middle of nowhere."

"Ha! This might actually work…" he mused. "I'm 'in my room' until tomorrow, anyway. I told my dad I felt sick."

I laughed. "That's one way to sneak out, I suppose. People don't really notice when I leave, cause Eriol and Tomoyo aren't really spending time with me." I didn't let my face sadden.

"Really? Why?" he asked me.

"Oh, well, they started their official courtship or whatever last week, actually, and we've only hung out once since then. That's the time I told you about yesterday. You know, where Eriol fell off the bridge."

"Oh, man. Sorry," he said sympathetically. I gave him a smile as he got out of the creek as well. "Ah! It's cold!" he yelped as the wind hit his bare, wet skin.

"Yeah, I don't know why that is," I said. "It happens whenever I get out of water." I should have known better, knowing Syaoran.

"It's because when evaporation occurs, it removes heat from the body. You know what evaporation is, right?"

I stared.

"Uh, sorry. It's where liquid changes from its liquid state into a gaseous state," he added. "Anyway."

_I hate it when he does that…_ "Yeah, so. Do you know what time it is, about?" I asked, looking at the sun.

"Looks like it's about four o'clock," he said, also looking up.

"Oh, good. Come on, let's go. Perfect timing."

"Uh, okay," he said, and followed me.

**PoV change: Syaoran**

Sakura and I walked for half an hour, by which time our clothes had completely dried in the hundred-degree weather.

"There it is," she said to me. I looked down from the large hill we were standing on at the village. It was tiny. Sakura probably would have fainted if she saw the capital, I mused amusedly. We made our way down the slope.

"Okay. So where will I stay for the night?" I asked.

"Oh, you can stay at our house," she said nonchalantly. I stopped and blinked, then followed her.

"Do you have a guest room?"

"Uh, no, but we have a couch I can sleep on… Or we can go back to the manor in the middle of the night, which would be more exciting, but probably more dangerous."

"Dangerous? Why?"

"Oh, we get wolves here sometimes. But not a lot. Maybe once every six months," she responded.

"Whoa. Wolves?" I said incredulously. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah," she said as the ground flattened out. "But I mean, they'd be as likely to be there during the day as at night. Let's just go at night."

Before I had a chance to protest, we were walking into the village. I had never seen so many people before! We always arrived in the capital at night, so as to avoid people who might want to assassinate us. It was a morbid thought, but my father said it was possible… Then we usually stayed inside the next day to meet stuffy politicians and sign papers, and then left that night. This, although safe, resulted in my never having actually met a real commoner before. Until Sakura.

To the right was a man calling out prices for different fish, and to the left was a tailor's shabby hut with a faded, ripped mannequin outside it. A cooper was making a barrel outside, and an old shoemaker could be seen through a window cutting and stitching leather boots, although most of the people I could see were barefooted. I dimly remembered that I, myself, was barefoot.

"Actually, Syaoran, it is the custom of the village that whoever greets a traveler has to give him boarding. So ha. You can't refuse," she said, grinning at me.

She stopped at a hut that looked just like every other and opened the thin, creaky door.

"There's no lock on this thing!" I exclaimed.

"Yeah, I told you. We don't steal stuff from each other, there's not really much to steal anyway. We trade goods, that way everyone is useful. My dad might trade, say, a hinge pin for a fish, or a hinge pin for a plank of wood. There's this wood about ten miles east of here, and we get most of our supplies from there."

I nodded mutely, looking around her hut. I was startled. There were only three rooms. The first room, that we were in, had a dirt floor and a dilapidated old sofa, with a small table next to it and a circle of stones with sticks in the center in the corner. That was presumably a fireplace. She beckoned me into the second room. It was the kitchen of sorts. It had a large metal basin in the corner, with a curtain next to it.

"That's the wash-tub," she informed me. "That's the sink," she said, pointing to a barrel of water, "and that's the food-preserver." It was a big, dark grey, metal tub. I opened it. Inside was lots and lots of ice, with pieces of meat and fruits and vegetables among the cubes. In the corner stood a rickety old table and two chairs. Sakura beckoned me into her room.

"I'm lucky," she said. "I get my own room. Even Tomoyo doesn't have her own room," she informed me proudly. I nodded.

In the corner was a large mattress, with no sort of bed-frame. Next to it was a comfortable, moth-eaten chair. On the wall was nailed a picture, childishly drawn with charcoal.

"I drew that," she said. "And my dad made the nail." She laughed, and I laughed with her, not quite sure what was so funny. "My dad sleeps at his work," she said.

"Oh," I said concisely. "So you're all alone at night? Aren't you scared?"

"No…" she said exasperatedly. "I told you, no one wants to do anyone harm in this place. It's been this way for forever-ish. Since my dad's dad was a kid, anyway."

I whistled. "Wow… that's so cool. I have to sleep with a guard outside my room."

"Anyway. You can sleep here, or on the sofa, or we can go back to your house at night. Your pick."

"It'll be fun to go back at night. Let's do it."

I heard loud banging noises, and immediately hid. "Hurry! Get behind the door!" I hissed to Sakura, but she only laughed.

"Stupid, that's the festival starting! Come on, let's go!"

She beckoned me out of her hut and into the midst of the village festival.

* * *

**You guys rock, and I love you.**

**Now give me reviews. (/bribery) Haha, just kidding. But seriously. Please give me three seconds of your time to jot down something in that happy little box generated by the small purple button.**

**And I'll love you even more!**

**Next time I might do review replies, so if you have any questions, consider them answered. And if you have any complaints, consider them retorted to. (lol)**

**GakaT**


	3. Chapter 3

**Yes. I shall continue. Thanks for your reviews, everyone.**

* * *

_Italics… thoughts…_

CAPITALS ARE YELLING!!!

Normal letters are regular type, narration, etc.

Underlining is putting emphasis on stuff.

"Quotes are talking," the author said redundantly.

**PoV change: Bold**

* * *

Summary: 

My mother used to tell me that the higher you aim, the farther you're gonna have to fall. And let me tell you, I think I've just aimed about as high as it can get: Li Syaoran, the son of a lord. And then there's me, Sakura Kinomoto, the blacksmith's daughter, who's not planning to fall any time soon.

* * *

**PoV: Sakura**

We walked through the streets, which were dimly lit by the light of the dying sun. It really looked spectacular after sunset, when we lit all the candles and the streets were lit by the lights of over a thousand lanterns. But I didn't tell Syaoran this. I figured it'd be a nice surprise for him.

"So, what do you want to do first?" I asked him.

"Oh, oh, what's that, over there?" he exclaimed, pointing at a darts game.

"That's darts. You throw those things, see, and try and hit as near to the center of the circle as you can."

"Oh, really? I get math problems that are throwing-stuff-centric all the time! Can we try?"

"Sure, you don't have to ask me," I said, laughing, and ushered him over to the stall.

"Oh, what happens if you hit the middle?" he asked.

"You get one of those flowers in the little pots," I said, pointing to the small group of plants. He nodded.

"Hi, can we have two darts?" I asked the stall owner, a man called Akira Yamazaki. He smiled at me and handed me two of the small, sharp objects.

"Are you going to try and win a flower for your betrothed?" he asked Syaoran as I handed one to him.

"Oh, I'm not – we're not-" he stammered, blushing.

"He's a traveler," I bluffed. "I greeted him first, you know. Thought I'd show him around the festival. I don't know him." I threw the dart as hard as I could, but it hit the third ring from the outside, a pathetic try even by my standards.

"Nice try, young miss. Go on, go ahead and have a shot," Akira said to Syaoran.

Syaoran peered at the target, closed his eyes, and muttered to himself for a second. I could make out the word trajectory, which I'd heard him use before, and something about x and y. When he was done talking to himself, he aimed at the target and launched the dart into a gentle arc. Akira laughed, thinking it would miss by a mile, as what you were really supposed to do was throw it straight, hard, and fast at the target, but the dart slowly stuck into the very center of the circle. Akira stared for a second.

"Well done, well done indeed, sir!" he said jovially. "That was either some very good luck, or some very good work!" He picked up one of the small pots and handed it to Syaoran, who had a childish grin of pride on his face.

"That's cheating," I mumbled.

"Is not," he shot back. "It's factoring."

"Yeah, yeah. Fancy math and all that stuff. I know the drill. Hey, let's bob for apples!" I said, pointing to a bin in the corner, filled with water and apples.

"What do you do?" he inquired, wrinkling his nose.

"Oh, look, someone's doing it now!" I said. A young man kneeled on the dirt, looked at the apples, and stuck his face in, grabbing an apple quickly in his teeth.

"What's the fun in that?" asked Syaoran.

"You'll see," I said, dragging him towards it. My dad was running the apple bob, I noticed.

"Oh, hello, Sakura. Who's this?" he asked, frowning.

"He's a traveler. I met him first, so I'm showing him around," I repeated, shortening the story slightly. My dad smiled.

"All right then, perhaps he'd like to try his hand at bobbing?" asked my dad.

"Uh, okay," said Syaoran. He put down his plant, kneeled awkwardly, bent over the barrel, and stuck his face in. He fished around for a while, and then came up empty-mouthed.

"Here," I said, and he moved to the side slightly. "You've got to come at them at an angle so they don't float away," I explained, and quickly bit down on the crisp surface of one, bringing it up.

"Oh," he said, eyebrows rising. He rubbed his hands together, then pinned an apple against the side of the barrel and bit into it.

"That's it," I said, munching down on my apple. I waved goodbye to my dad.

"Who was that?" Syaoran asked once we were away from the bobbing stand.

"That's my dad."

"Oh! He looks really nice. My dad looks kinda mean, actually…" he mumbled, frowning.

"I'm sure he's not that bad," I said. "Anyway, where do you want to go next?"

"How about… how about that place?" he said, pointing to another throwing game. The player had to take a ball made of leather filled with dirt, and try to knock down three milk bottles, which were quite heavy, off a long table.

"Okay," I said. It was one of my favorite games. We made our way over there to see Eriol and Tomoyo just leaving.

"Sakura!" Tomoyo exclaimed. "Who's this?"

"Oh, he's a traveler. I'm showing him the festival," I said, shortening the lie further. "Mr. Li, this is Eriol and Tomoyo. Eriol, Tomoyo, this is Syaoran Li."

"Nice to meet you," they said, and shook hands. Eriol and Tomoyo, holding hands, waved goodbye. The conversation was so terse that I could hardly believe that it had occurred at all.

"I see what you mean about the courting thing," said Syaoran, as, down the street, Eriol tugged Tomoyo a little closer to him and placed a kiss on her cheek.

"Yeah. Anyway. Are we going to play or not?" I said, and dashed to the stand. Eriol's mother was 'man'ning the post, so to speak.

"Two, or one?" she asked kindly.

"Two, please," I said, and she handed us six of the leather balls.

"Just throw it this time, will you?" I muttered to him, shoving in his hands three of the six balls. He grinned sheepishly. He raised a hand, aiming at the bottle that sat at the very end of the table, and whipped the ball at it. I didn't even see the ball as it struck the bottle, catapulting it off the table. He disposed of two other bottles in quick succession. I, myself, managed to knock two bottles off, but the third ball fell rather lamely to the ground. Eriol's mother gave Syaoran a large cupcake, topped with cream, and gave to me a small bun with cinnamon on it.

"Wow. I wish I could go to these all the time," he said, polishing off his apple and taking a large bite of the cupcake. I had finished my apple a while earlier, not taking dainty bites like Syaoran, and devoured half my bun in one bite.

"Yeah, so do I," I said. "I mean, I wish you could. It's so boring when you've got no one to go with. I'm not allowed to 'interfere' with Tomoyo and Eriol when they're courting, so I can only make small talk."

"Sorry," he said.

"Hey, look! They're lighting the candles!" I rushed to the front of the village. The sun slowly fell off the edge of the horizon, and Tomoyo's mother lit the first candle, cuing every stall owner to light theirs. Soon the whole village was washed with warm, flickering light. Luckily, the village's walls kept the wind from blowing the candles out or catching things on fire. I really loved after dark – it seemed so peaceful. This was when the whole village, which really wasn't many people, really started the festival. Everyone came out of their houses to try their hand at games, to visit the feast table, to talk with each other.

"And check it out! You're so lucky you came today – this is the only day of the year they make moon cakes," I said, pointing to the feast table. We hurried over to it. Syaoran eyed the cakes, which were round, about five inches in diameter, and topped with shredded white stuff that my dad called 'coconut'. Under the coconut was sweet icing, and under that, spongy pastry with a layer of shocolata in the middle, which was brown, gooey stuff that was quite expensive.

"Jeez, Syaoran, just eat it. Stop nibbling." As if to demonstrate, I took an immense bite of my moon cake. I watched, my eye twitching, as he attempted to come at the cake at an angle that wouldn't get his face dirty.

"Oh, never mind," I grumbled, and yanked him along the feast table to get more food.

I piled food onto my plates, already nibbling at it as I made my way to one of the tables. By the time Syaoran had appeared, all his food sectioned off into different portions of his plate, I was halfway done.

"Where's the meat fork and the greens and fruits fork?" asked Syaoran.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Oh. Now you remember them."

"It's Murphy's law," he said jovially, and picked up the one fork and examined it closely.

We took half an hour to eat, thanks to mister 'I think I'll clean off my fork after eating from each food group, so as to separate them in my perfectly organized stomach'. I was aching to play the game where you throw a ball at a bucket of water, thus knocking it onto someone else's head.

Mischievously, I led Syaoran there.

"What's this?" he asked innocently. I kept my evil grin inwards and said nothing.

"Okay, Syaoran, you go in there," I said. He glanced at me, twitched, and entered.

"All right, young man," the village tailor said to Syaoran. "You sit there."

Syaoran's eyes widened as he noticed, too late, the teetering bucket full of water on top of a table in front of him. I smirked and threw the ball with all my might. It hit the bucket and tossed the freezing stuff all over his face. I couldn't help but break into laughter, but my chuckles faded as he got up and shoved me into the chair. The tailor held me down as Syaoran refilled the bucket and knocked it into my lap, soaking me to the skin.

"Loser," I muttered to him as we walked away, and he ruffled my sodden hair fondly.

I scowled.

"More food?" he asked slyly. I sighed, unable to turn down the prospect of something hot, and followed him back towards the tables.

We had played each game twice except one by the time it was ten o'clock, and then it was time for the moon-game. I told Syaoran this as we headed back to the village square.

"What's the moon-game?" he inquired. I pointed to a large pole in the center of the square. On it were carvings of many different animals, most of which I didn't know the names to.

"Ooh! An ostrich! And a platypus! Those are some marvelous inscriptions."

"Of course I know what that means."

"Sorry."

"Anyway, you have to climb to the top of that pole using only your hands," I explained.

"That should be easy," he said. "The carvings look quite deep."

"Ah, yes, this is true," I responded. "Until this."

Tomoyo's mother quickly climbed the pole and poured five gallons of vegetable oil all around it. The slippery fluid slipped in-between every carving, seeped into every crack, and the pole glistened with the light of the moon.

"…yes," he agreed. "That does step up the difficulty level some."

Most of the young people in the village participated in the moon-game, and as Syaoran and I had spent so long on every other game, we were at the very end of the line.

"Luckily for us, they have people with blankets to catch you when you slip," I explained, indicating several people in white robes standing near the bottom.

"That is a relief," Syaoran muttered. I chuckled.

Most of the people preceding us got only about halfway up the pole before slipping off. It was a tall pole, at around twenty feet or so, so getting that high wasn't exactly bad.

At last, it was my turn. I gulped and turned to Syaoran, who gave me a reassuring, perfectly-aligned smile. I slowly edged around until I saw the deepest groove I could find. I reached up and took the spot right behind an elephant's tusk, and then hoisted myself up, my feet on two ears of some sort. I slowly ascended, picking my spots carefully. Finally, at thirteen or so feet, I realized that I'd hit a dead end. It was either try to swing around the pole to attempt to grasp something on the other side, or drop. My muscles screamed as I twisted around and scrabbled frantically for a handhold. My hand touched something, and I swung myself out and around the pole, my other hand already searching for another groove. I could hear the gasp below of the villagers who were still watching.

I sighed, secure once more, and went up two more feet, but then my hand touched a slippery patch of oil and I slipped off. I felt the whoosh of air as I plopped into the sheet stretched wide by the people in robes.

"Good job!" exclaimed Syaoran, and walked over to get his turn. I knew he was athletic, but I was still not prepared for the ease with which he pulled himself up the greasy pole. Within minutes, he was at eighteen feet, and his hands found the top of the pole. Soon he was sitting on top of it, bathed in moonlight.

The village cheered as he climbed halfway back down, then jumped, presumably suspicious of the sheet's ability to hold him. Upon hopping off of the sheet, he was presented with a small disk made of silver with pockmarks in the surface. There was a tiny hole in the top, through which was a string. Amidst claps on the back, Syaoran took it. He forced his way through the crowd to me, grinning largely. After the moon-game, the festival was over. The villagers made their ways back into their houses, and I found my dad. I told him about the 'sleeping arrangements', and Syaoran and me went back to my house.

**PoV change: Syaoran**

That was possibly the most fun I've ever had in my life. Then again, I'm not exactly permitted to have fun. Sakura and I went back through a small alleyway to her hut, and we entered. I was holding a flower and a necklace – I felt rather feminine.

Sakura put the extra food she had won in their kitchen, and then we slipped back out of the house, grinning, and exited the village unseen.

"Which way?" I asked, and Sakura looked at the moon and veered slightly to the right.

"Do you do this often?" I said. "Sneak out at night, I mean."

"Not really," she said, looking at me. The moonlight made her eyes glimmer a beautiful silver-green color. For some reason, I couldn't stop looking at her. I'd found that happening lately.

"Well. It's fun, you know? Adrenaline rush," I said hurriedly.

"What's adrenaline?" she asked.

"Oh. It's just what gives you energy, basically," I clarified lamely, simplifying slightly.

"Gotcha," she said, and looked at the ground. Her silky hair seemed to glow, honey-colored, in the darkness. I almost reached out a hand to touch it.

My father had discussed this with me, which was awkward. Wanting to touch someone. Desire. But I'd never thought that way about Sakura. She was just a good friend…

The night was warm and the breezes were soft as we made our way over the hilly countryside. I looked up at the flickering stars, breathing deeply. My dad said to be honest with girls. If you thought they were pretty, tell them. But it was different. Sakura was a… a peasant. A very pretty peasant, but still. I opened my mouth, and a sort of deformed gurgle eked from my stiff vocal chords. My voice didn't seem to be working.

Come to think of it, I had found myself thinking about Sakura more and more over the past few months. Thinking of the little things, like the way her mouth quirked to one side when she laughed and her eyelids drooped when she was being sarcastic. I'd found myself laughing in the middle of the night, thinking of the things she said, and the way she misused words. Just a week ago I'd been in the capital and seen two people courting each other, and immediately thought of myself in the man's place, and Sakura beside me. I'd disregarded the thoughts as nothing at the time.

She was the last thing I thought of before sleep. I realized that every day that wasn't the third; I wished it was so I could see her. Was this only lust, or did I really have feelings for her? And how was I supposed to know the difference?

"I'm sorry," she said suddenly, shattering the still silence.

"Sorry? For what?" I chuckled.

"For not knowing the things you know. Like words and things."

"Hey, it's not your fault," I muttered to her.

"Yeah, but I always wanted to be smart and… and intellectual and stuff. I never wanted to just be a peasant," she burst out.

"You're not just a peasant," I said, aghast.

"That's how those rich people that come into the village act," she grumbled.

I took a breath. "You're not just a peasant …to me," I whispered. She stopped in her tracks, and as a result, tripped over her own feet down the hill. I quickly ran down and stopped her before she rolled right into the river.

"Hey, this is where we were earlier," I said, taking in the surroundings. She was lying on the grass, and I was kneeling beside her, looking into her mesmerizing eyes.

"I – I, you-" she stuttered. I'd never seen her like this. She was always confident and self-assured; sure of what she was going to say and when she was going to say it.

"I'm not?" she whispered up at me. I frowned.

"Of course not. You're my friend," I said, and an emotion flickered across her face that looked something like disappointment.

"Oh," she said.

"And you look really, really," I stammered, blushing furiously. "You look really beautiful." _There. That wasn't too hard, was it?_

Her cheeks colored instantly.

"Really?" she said, her delicate nose pointing up at me, her arched eyebrows slightly raised, her eyes widened a little in surprise.

"Really," I answered.

"Oh, and this isn't the same place we were earlier," she said. "We're right next to the manor," she said, and pointed behind me. I glanced back.

"Thanks for taking me to the festival," I said, and helped her up. "It was great."

"Yeah. Thanks for coming," she said.

**PoV change: Sakura**

He just – he just confused me more than he'd ever done with big words. He told me I was beautiful. I didn't know what to say.

"Well, I'll, uh, I'll see you in the courtyard day after tomorrow," I said, and turned to go. He put a hand on my shoulder and turned me back around. My eyes closed as he pressed his lips to my cheek. He smiled, his dark brown eyes mysterious in the darkness, stepped away, my heart racing, and walked back to the manor, leaving me more confused than ever.

My fingers touched the place on my cheek where his lips had been_. Oh, god. Oh, god. God._ I closed my eyes and staggered back up the hill. _Syaoran…_ I felt sick. He had just – we weren't even courting, and he – I – my head ached, and my cheek tingled, the feeling of his rough lips on my skin lingering much longer than it should have.

He was my friend, yes, of course. Then why had I felt a large swooping feeling of disappointment when he said I was his friend? Why had I wanted him to keep kissing me? Why did I keep thinking about him when people did things like him?

My dad had told me about the difference between lust and love. Lust was liking someone for their looks or figure, while love was liking them for them. Syaoran had said I looked beautiful. Was it just lust? I knew I liked him more than I liked just a friend; I had noticed the subtle change in my view of him the last few months. It had taken me long enough to realize it. Oh god. I was in love with Li Syaoran, the son of a lord.

The question was, did he feel the same way?

I slowly trudged back to the village and crept into my bed. I felt a tear leak from my eye. Why?

Confusion.

**PoV change: Syaoran**

I had a lot of difficulty getting to sleep that night. My brain kept slipping back to thoughts of Sakura. I had left her there, looking confused. Perhaps I should have explained further? I saw her eyes in front of me, and wondered how I'd never seen how beautiful they were, so deep and alluring, so soft and kind a gaze… I finally managed to slip off to sleep.

Naturally, I was exhausted the next day. Luckily, it was one of the three days of the week I had no tutoring, so I merely wandered aimlessly around the courtyards. It was not a nice day- it was drizzling, and the gray sky looked displeased, somehow.

I thought the whole day, returning into the house only for food. I snuck over the wall once more and wandered for an hour or so over the countryside, wishing I'd get a glimpse of her, just to see if she was thinking of me. My eyes were downcast, my hair was disheveled, and I trudged aimlessly back inside the manor. I ate dinner. My father eyed me suspiciously, but didn't ask about my silence, merely rummaged through more papers. I got the feeling he didn't even care.

The next day, I woke up full of excitement. I snuck out of the manor and down to the courtyard. Sakura was not there, yet. I wanted to know her response… I felt my heart pumping out feelings for her that both confused and exhilarated me.

At two o'clock, I re-entered the courtyard.

She wasn't there. I frowned. Sakura was always punctual. I waited there, looking up at the clouds and thinking, for an hour.

I screamed in frustration, the sound working its way from my throat with an ugly tearing noise. I kicked the stone bench, ignoring the pain, and stormed back inside.

The next few days went by in a blur. I completed all my tutoring successfully, started the next level, and even watched my father do paperwork like a good little boy. I was just about ready to burst.

It had been four days since I'd seen her, yet it felt like years. It was another dreary day, and it was already spitting rain. The air was steamy, hot and raining. Disgusting.

I entered the willow courtyard, longing for Sakura to be there, and got a shock. She was sitting on the side of the pool, hand tracing a pattern in the water. She looked up at me.

"Sakura!" I exclaimed, and she sat on one of the stone benches, looking miserable and cold. "Why weren't you here three days ago?"

"I'm confused," she murmured.

"And why don't you have a jacket?"

"Exactly… I don't have a jacket."

"Oh," I responded. "Well then, here, take mine." I handed her my outrageous waistcoat and felt a breath of air hit my arms.

"I couldn't," she said.

"Sakura, I have so many layers on, that if I fell over, I'd bounce," I said. She laughed sadly and took the coat. She sighed as she put her arms into the warm interior.

"Anyway. Why were you confused?" I asked. The sky crackled, fizzling with electricity ominously.

"I wanted to ask you about that day, but I'm not allowed. I'm not supposed to, and you're not supposed to, and no one in their right minds would ever approve, Syaoran," she chuckled uneasily. "Anyway, I – I wanted you to know that do I like you. As … as more than a friend," she stuttered.

"I'm sorry I left you there," I said, as the sky started spitting large rain droplets again. "I didn't mean to take a dramatic exit or whatever."

"No, really, it's fine," she hurriedly reassured. She seemed to want a reply. When I couldn't think of what to say, her eyes closed and her face fell.

"I – me too," I blurted.

"You do?" she said breathlessly, immediately looking back up at me. The heavens opened and rain started pouring down from the clouds. We scooted under the willow tree, which provided at least a little shelter. "I mean, we really shouldn't – I'm, and you're, I mean, we're not even courting and we're not supposed even to kiss until we're courting, and you-"

Not knowing what I was doing, I got off the bench, kneeled, and pressed my mouth to hers. Her eyes opened wide, and then she leaned forwards, rain splashing down our faces and onto our lips. A shock seemed to leap from her lips to mine, warming me more completely than my stuffy clothes could.

I pulled back, and her green eyes stared into mine. "I missed you," I murmured, slowly caressing her cheek, wanting to feel her skin on mine. She shuddered and closed her eyes. Slowly we brought our faces together again.

After a few minutes in our perfect bubble, I heard a small thundering in the distance. "You should probably get home before the lightning starts again," I whispered, running my fingers through her hair.

She nodded, kissed my forehead, and scrambled over the wall.

I closed my eyes and laughed at the rain's pathetic attempts to sadden my buoyed feelings.

**PoV change: Sakura**

Syaoran… he feels the same way.

I ran all the way back home, thinking of nothing else. It seemed so… abrupt, the sudden realization of my feelings, the four nights of fear that he didn't feel the same, the kiss. He was so kind, so perfect. It didn't even cross my mind again that he was still the son of a lord, and I was still only the blacksmith's daughter.

"Hello, Sakura," said my father from the sofa.

"Dad! Why are you home?"

"Oh. The fire seems dangerous in this weather, so I closed up temporarily until it stops raining."

"Mmgh. Well, I'll be in my room," I said, and shut the rickety door on my room and lit the candle in the corner. Although it couldn't be past two o'clock, it was as dark as night.

_Syaoran… four years, and I never noticed you that way. Maybe I loved you the whole time._ I was bursting with happiness. I even loved the sound of his name. _Syao-ran. Syao-ran Li._ The way it rolled lightly off my tongue.

Syaoran… me and him, together. Me and Syaoran. Forbidden to be together. Who were we kidding? This couldn't happen… I should have just stayed away. This could endanger Syaoran's lordship or whatever it was called. I buried my head into my straw mattress and gurgled. _What to do, what to do?! I can't, we can't – we can't be together, but I love him so much – and I have for so long… and I've subconsciously waited for this moment for so long… I've always noticed how attractive he is, secretly fancying him - and never told him – and now we're at marrying age and it's _not fair_ and oh Syaoran… help me_

I closed my eyes. It would work itself out. I'd go and see Syaoran tomorrow. Everything would be fine… just perfectly fine.

I'd been losing sleep over him, over that peck on the cheek that could have meant nothing but lust. He'd called me beautiful. I couldn't help but smile and fall asleep.

"Sakura?" called a voice.

I blinked blearily and looked up.

"Dad?"

"Dinner, sweetheart. Want anything?" he said, concerned.

"No, really, dad. I just want to go to sleep," I crackled, and did so.

I woke up the next day after twelve hours straight of sleep, feeling refreshed but famished. Dashing over to the icebox, I pulled out a strip of chicken and put it over the fireplace. After it was cooked, I baked a potato and drank some fresh cow's milk, and felt completely rejuvenated.

And I'd see him again today, only to try again to reject him. I felt something inside me wilt slightly.

It was a beautiful day. The sky had rained itself out, leaving behind comfortably warm weather, not too hot, and not too cold. I walked out of the village, popping in on my dad to tell him that I'd be swimming. A total lie.

Half an hour later, I found myself in the courtyard. I was early, but that was all right.

He opened the door, and I stood up.

"Syaoran," I said. "I like you a lot – I think I might even love you – but we can't be together." It was a brave attempt. I was almost crying already.

"Stupid," he said, and walked towards me. "You're so dense. I think I love you too. Maybe since I met you. They can't pull me away from you," he said, and kissed me. His face felt warm and soft on mine, his hands dancing through my hair lit fire on my scalp, and I put my arms around his back, completely believing every word that came out of his mouth.

Then I pulled away, my brain acting up again. "No," I said firmly. "You can't love me. Then you couldn't be a lord."

"I don't care. How many times have I told you, I hate being a lord?" he whispered fiercely.

"But – but you don't have a sibling. You have to be the lord," I said. "For the country."

"I'll find some way. For now… just come here," he said. He sat on the stone bench, with me next to him, and his rough lips found mine once more.

He left for the capital the next day. I wished him a safe trip.

**PoV change: Syaoran**

"Come on, Syaoran! We must be prompt!"

I sighed and trudged into the carriage, curtains drawn.

We had to ride from noon until one AM to get there. As usual upon arrival, the streets were deserted. The large three-and-four story buildings towered over us as we stepped out of the carriage, and we hurried into the hotel.

I turned to the comfortable room and collapsed onto the bed. Doing nothing was so exhausting.

I had to wake up at six o'clock. I followed my father into the conference room as usual, and they commenced yet another meeting to discuss my future.

"Have you selected those chosen yet?" asked my father.

"No, not yet. I think that we will have opted for the candidates by next year or the next year and a half," said one of the stuffy old guys. "In the meanwhile, I suggest that the both of you find a new milieu for your home as quickly as possible, preferably near or inside the capital," he said.

Milieu? What's a milieu? I was listening intently as they talked further. Then, to my shock, one of them addressed me. This had never occurred before.

"Mr. Li, we are currently choosing candidates for your bride. You and your father will move temporarily to the capital in about six months. Upon finding the candidates and you choosing one, you will move back to your home. Many girls will be competing to be your bride."

My… what?

* * *

**Oh, my evil is unrivaled.**

**Now review?**

**Please?**

**GakaT**


	4. Chapter 4

**All righty then.**

**Let's keep moving.**

* * *

_Italics… thoughts…_

CAPITALS ARE YELLING!!!

Normal letters are regular type, narration, etc.

Underlining is putting emphasis on stuff.

"Quotes are talking," the author said redundantly.

**PoV change: Bold**

* * *

Summary:

My mother used to tell me that the higher you aim, the farther you're gonna have to fall. And let me tell you, I think I've just aimed about as high as it can get: Li Syaoran, the son of a lord. And then there's me, Sakura Kinomoto, the blacksmith's daughter, who's not planning to fall any time soon.

* * *

**PoV: Syaoran**

I didn't speak at all as we rode back home. My throat felt constricted. My face felt flushed, my head felt heavy, and I felt like I was going to throw up. The irony was suffocating. Just one day after our feelings confessed… I was getting betrothed? It wasn't fair…

I wouldn't tell Sakura. I couldn't tell her. We had six months, anyway… Six months.

I sighed.

When we arrived back home, I immediately fell asleep. The next day was sunny and cheerful, and my father announced that I would have no more tutoring lessons, and was free to do whatever I wished with myself on account of my limited time at home. I smiled and shook his hand, and then went outside.

I entered the courtyard. Sakura, as expected, was sitting there. I sat next to her on the bench.

"So, how was your little trip?" she asked.

"Boring," I sighed. "As expected."

"Yep, yep," she said.

We talked, and kissed. And talked some more, and kissed some more. It felt so right, but there was a little nagging voice in the back of my mind that cruelly reminded me of my duty.

When Sakura could see the sun getting lower in the sky, she pulled herself off of me and bid me a quick good-bye, her face and mine equally flushed.

The months that passed were the best of my life. They were truly carefree. I honestly don't know what else to say. Sakura and I became so close that we spent almost every afternoon together. My father didn't even notice… as usual.

It had been five months since I'd been told. I walked down the stairs, my fingers tiptoeing down the ivory banister, sliding down the pearl inlay, brushing the dark, polished wood. I sat on the bottom step and sighed, sighed, sighed. I could almost see the move looming ahead, a dark prospect like a crouching animal waiting to fold me into its evil embrace.

I made a mental list of what I could do to stay with Sakura.

Number One:

That was as far as I got. My mind was completely and utterly blank, devoid of ideas or plans or anything constructive. I'd felt so lazy, not doing my maths, not remembering laws of etiquette, but I hadn't minded one bit.

Every moment of my day was filled with thoughts of her, whether of her face, her laugh, her melodic voice, or the fact that soon I'd have to leave her, and that I hadn't told her. So often did we kiss that whenever I shut my eyes, I could almost feel her soft lips pressing against mine, my heart thumping, with her back against a soft hill's side and my hands on either side of her. And when I opened my eyes, I was disappointed that they did not meet her immaculate countenance for my hands to caress as her green eyes glimmered into mine. We were so intoxicated with love that we could just sit there, not saying anything, for hours.

I couldn't leave her. Whenever I thought about it, it was like a heavy object dropped on my head and I actually swayed. When I thought about leaving this place, where I'd met her, it felt like a direct stab to my throbbing heart.

Oh, Sakura. How could I tell her?

**PoV change: Sakura**

He was so perfect. They say that no one is perfect, but Syaoran was the exception to the rule. He was sensitive, and protective, but not invasive, and respectful, and cheerful, and – but I could go on forever just listing about him, listing the things that we'd done, listing about us.

It was getting cold. I wore my ratty, tattered old coat, my worn-out boots. Whenever I breathed out, swirls of mist danced in the air before rising and drifting apart. My eyelashes would be frosted with ice in the mornings, even as I huddled under my threadbare sheet.

I couldn't believe Eriol and Tomoyo were married. They were both seventeen, and though I knew the day would come, it seemed so far away four years ago as we laughed about them being married. They were an idyllic couple, Eriol very handsome, Tomoyo very beautiful. In five months, even more had happened. They had barely talked to me then, and they didn't five months later. The regularity of married life didn't include me. _They_ didn't include me anymore, and although it sounds terrible, I didn't care. I had Syaoran, and he was all I needed.

We met in-between the three hills and talked for a while, my hair slung around my neck, a hat perched around my ears. He sat behind me, my head leaning into his chest, his breath twirling above me and his hands around my waist. We had a sliding contest on the ice that day.

"Do you think the ice's thick enough?" he said worryingly. I snorted, and then coughed. A snowflake had drifted up my nose.

"Of course it's thick enough," I laughed, and leapt onto it before he could stop me. There was a heavy clunk as I landed, not even a hint of a creak. I raised an eyebrow at him and he scowled.

For the next half hour, we skidded wildly across the bumpy ice on our stomachs, laughing giddily as we threw ourselves back onto the bank, world spinning crazily.

"Don't tell me you've never done that before," I chuckled, and nearly threw up. He broke into laughter at me.

"Syaoran! I forgot to tell you," I said. "My birthday's in five days!"

"Really! Oh. Sorry, I forgot to tell you. Mine was three weeks ago. I kinda forgot myself, heh heh," he chuckled.

I stared at him. "SYAORAN! Your birthday was three weeks ago and you DIDN'T TELL ME!?"

"Yeah, well, I forgot myself until my father told me," he muttered defensively, as the ground pulled a white sheet of snow over itself.

"You forgot your own birthday," I said skeptically. He nodded seriously. "Wow, that's actually sort of sad."

"That's funny," he said. "I thought you'd have a spring birthday."

"Why?" I asked.

"Well, spring is the most beautiful season," he whispered. "So I figured such a beautiful girl would be born then."

I rolled my eyes, smiling against my own will as he pulled me towards him for our lips to meet.

It was freezing. The snow was coming down hard now and the light grey sky was darkening slightly. My fingers, even tangled in Syaoran's thick hair, were cold, and through my thin pants, my legs felt like stiff blocks of ice. I swear I felt ice crack as I bent my knees.

Syaoran had a lot of heavy clothing on, and so seemed unperturbed by the weather. When I shuddered, though, we broke apart. He looked confused, his dark eyelashes snowy.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Oh, nothing. It's kinda cold," I chattered, my teeth clattering together.

"Do you… do you want to come back to the manor with me?" he asked.

"It'll be just as cold in your yard as here, smart one," I laughed through my jittering jaw.

"I meant inside," he said.

"Oh. Well then… yes please," I murmured, my voice hushed by the snow collapsing onto me. Syaoran pulled me close to him and brushed off my hair, and we started to walk.

Once we reached the manor, we climbed over the wall around the back. Syaoran told me his room was at the back side of the third floor, and that there was a drainpipe leading right to it. He climbed up first, and as I followed him, I felt a sickening thud as déjà vu descended upon me.

I was twelve years old, on a summer's day, and Eriol was following me. I reached the roof, and my best friends departed, leaving me alone. As I went down through the house and out into the courtyard, the best thing that had ever happened to me occurred.

I met a boy with shaggy dark brown hair and dark eyes, thinking him childish, and I agreed to return to him.

I looked up at Syaoran. He smiled gently and opened the window. We both clambered inside, fingers aching from sudden heat.

"Wow," I exclaimed. "How's it so warm in here?"

"Insulation," he explained. "We keep everything in here shut, doors and windows, and block them up with pieces of cloth and stuff to keep heat from escaping."

I looked around his room. There was a huge bed to my left, and two bookshelves to my right. Next to the bed was – my eyes widened – a hand-drawn picture of me. I walked slowly over to it.

"Who drew that?" I asked.

"I did, silly," he chortled, and I stared rudely.

"You can draw really well!" I said. He blushed.

"Not really," said Syaoran.

I turned around and nearly screamed. I saw a girl, standing across the room from me! I walked closer, and the other girl did the same thing. As I lifted my hand, so did she.

"Um, what are you doing?" questioned Syaoran. I blushed and grinned.

"Why is there another girl here?" I asked.

"That's a mirror," he explained. "You look at yourself in it."

"That's me?" I murmured.

"Well, yeah," he said. "Haven't you ever looked into still water, seen your reflection there?"

I raised my eyebrows and watched my expression change. "Yes, but this is weird. Are my eyes really green?"

"Yes, Sakura, your eyes are green," he sighed, and walked over next to me.

I couldn't understand it. I looked so like a peasant, with my lumpy coat and too-small hat, and my overlarge boots and worn breeches. Why did Syaoran, with his never-ripped garments, even look at me? I swallowed a lump in my throat and turned around. I walked straight into Syaoran and sat down hard on the floor, scowling.

He helped me up, and we lay down next to each other on his large bed.

"You have such a nice house," I said randomly.

"Well, it cost enough," he chuckled, and I smiled.

He removed my hat, boots, and coat for me as I lay lazily there.

"Anyway. You told me your birthday's in a week! You're going to be seventeen, right?" he said to the ceiling.

"Yeah," I told the ceiling. "Big whoop. Closer than ever to marrying age."

I thought I felt him twitch. "Your dad talk about it any more?" he said darkly.

"Not yet, but I think he will soon," I whispered. "I don't want to get married! I want to stay with you," I sighed, and snuggled closer to his warm body, my fingers starting to get some feeling again. He put his arm around my shoulders and my head fit perfectly into the crook of his neck. I closed my eyes.

"Sakura, wake up," I heard a soft voice say. "Wake up."

I opened my eyes groggily. Had I actually fallen asleep, right there? How _humiliating!_

"Oh, I'm sorry," I crackled, and lifted my body from the bed. "What time is it?"

"About eight," he replied, looking out of the window.

"_Eight_?" I yelped. "I need to go… we have dinner at eight!"

"I'll see you tomorrow," he said with a calm smile, and kissed me goodbye. My hands moved down the iced drainpipe as I crept out of the window. His face slipped out of sight, and I thought I saw his smile droop slightly.

My legs hit the snow and I blinked as I sank into it up to my waist. I closed my eyes and sighed. I shuffled through it to the wall and made a quick exit.

"Sorry, I got lost… it's so snowy," I said to my father upon entering the house.

"It's fine, sweetie. As long as you're here," he said with an odd smile. I started to eat my soup, and he merely watched me.

"Aren't you going to eat?" I asked.

"I already ate. I had a business transaction," he responded.

Swallowing, I said, "Oh, really? What'd you sell?"

"Well, I didn't sell it, it was more like a trade," my father said uneasily.

"What, the forge?"

He sighed and put his fingers to his eyes, rubbing them. "No, sweetheart. Your hand in marriage."

I heard my fork clatter to the table as I stared into my father's face, my eyebrows pointed upwards in disbelief.

"I'm not getting married," I said.

"I don't see why not," my dad snapped, and began to eat. "Besides, Hiroshi is a cute guy, as you girls say."  
"Hiroshi?!" I shrieked. "You mean the one who threw a dog into a fire?" The dog had escaped, but Hiroshi's reputation hadn't gone so unscathed.

"Sakura. It is arranged. You are getting married, and that's final."

My hands shook. I slurped the last of my soup and stood up. I ran into my room.

I closed my eyes, trying to block the world out of my head. I imagined Hiroshi, who was attractive, but nasty, and slashed his image into shreds.

I woke up with the cruel winter's sun glaring at me. A tear dripped into my hand. I merely shook, sobbing, and went back to sleep.

The whole day I pondered going to see Syaoran and juggled my options. I ate without conviction, breathed only by instinct, and closed my eyes in disbelief every time I thought the word 'marriage'.

The days following were similar. On the second day, I was walking down the street and saw Eriol and Tomoyo, arm in arm. They cast a glance at me that warned me away. On the third day, I left the village and slid on the ice. My mind churned as I spun across dizzyingly, and I threw up, again, and again, and started to sob. On the fourth day, I saw Hiroshi in the village. He waved hello to me and gave me a cold smile, visibly eyeing my body and not even talking to me, as if I were an animal for sale.

I turned seventeen, but it didn't seem to matter. As I sat on the chair in my room, I heard a distant rap at the door.

I answered and gasped. Syaoran stood in the doorway, his nose red, his ears pink, his eyes glinting.

"Syaoran!" I invited him in immediately. We stood in the corner of the living room.

"It's your birthday. I brought you something," he said, with a smile.

"What is it?"

He brought out the flower he had won from the festival months and months ago. It was a snowdrop, beautiful and delicate.

I breathed out. Its white, shimmering surface shone at me.

"Syaoran."

"Yeah?" he said, smiling wider.

"My father gave my hand in marriage to someone. I'm engaged."

He dropped the pot. It smashed.

"You what?" he whispered.

"I'm betrothed to someone from the village," I said in a choked voice.

"No…" Syaoran breathed.

"I'm sorry."

"Sakura, I should have told you this before, but I'm moving," he blurted suddenly.

"Moving? To where?" I gasped.

"The capital," he said heavily. I closed my eyes and leaned against the wall.

"When?" I asked.

"Two weeks and five days," replied Syaoran.

"You should go," I murmured.

He brought his face to mine, and his cheekbone banged into my temple. My tears leapt onto his cheeks as his lips pressed clumsily against mine, and then he left.

_Syaoran…_

I looked at the ground. The flower lay against the dirt floor. I scooped a handful of dirt out of the ground, placed the snowdrop into the hole, and filled it in, the sun glowing into my house.

The next morning was a slow one. My eyes opened onto a frosty ceiling. Icicles hung from my square window.

A tear rolled up to my eyelid and leapt from my eyelashes. It slid down off the curve of my cheek to the bottom of my ear. It seemed like yesterday that I had realized, and just as quickly, we were being torn apart. I was betrothed, and Syaoran was moving… Syaoran was moving.

There was a harsh knock on the door. "One moment!" I called, and slipped on my clothes, hastily running my fingers through my hair. Maybe it was Syaoran, and he had come to say that he was not moving after all, and –

I saw jet-black hair and icy light blue eyes. It was Hiroshi.

"Oh, hi," I said, trying to mask my disappointment. "Tanaka-san." He did not reply.

"Sorry, so rude of me. Come in, Tanaka-san," I stuttered. He stepped inside and brushed snow off his arms.

He smiled disarmingly. My breath caught. He really was very attractive, and the smirk he had on now was so hot. I might even have had a crush on him if he weren't an awful person. "Come on," he said in a scratchy, confident voice. "You don't need to be so formal. Call me Hiroshi."

I looked coldly at him. "Sure, Tanaka-san."

He smirked again. "You're cute."

I shrank away as he moved closer. My back met the plaster wall. He moved his lips to my ear and said in a low, husky voice, "I'm lucky. I thought I'd get stuck with some ugly bitch." He smiled predatorily, and I shivered as his cold lips touched the edge of my jawbone.

"Stop!" I whispered, and put a hand on his chest, pushing him away slightly.

"All in good time," he replied. "Anyway, we're courting now, so…" He trailed off suggestively, and I gave him an icy glare. "Your dad told me to take you to dinner tonight. I like your dad, he's a cool guy."

"And I like him a little less after this," I muttered resentfully.

"Come on, baby," Hiroshi laughed. "Give me a chance. How about I pick you up outside your door at seven thirty?"

I sighed. Perhaps I was being a bit harsh. After all, I knew most of my bias stemmed from the fact that Hiroshi was not Syaoran. And he could hardly help that part. Maybe he had also changed since he was 9 (and ridiculously cruel to animals).

"Yeah, okay," I replied.

Before I knew what had happened, Hiroshi leaned in and gave me a quick kiss on the lips before waving goodbye and heading out the door. I stood, shocked, for a few seconds, then blinked and made my way back through my tiny home.

I slumped back onto my bed, fighting my tears. I had realized my feelings in the space of four days, and it seemed like just four more since we had been in the heart of our love. Those five months could never be relived. They were gone always and forever.

**PoV change: Syaoran**

I was in a deplorable state. I was able to do little more than stare dejectedly at my ceiling, huddled beneath my sheets, at two hours past noon. I had drawn the maroon velvet drapes so that the wintry sun would not pierce my darkness. I was conflicted about our present condition - should I be weaning myself off of her, so as to make an cleaner break out of practice, or should I be spending every waking moment with her in an effort not to be denied, even if it was only temporary?

Either way, it was hopeless.

And she was betrothed.

I was filled with a sudden rage. No one was good enough for her. She deserved whatever and whoever she wanted. And that was me, right?

I descended into doubt. Surely, if she begged hard enough, she could have stopped her father from getting her married? Did she really love me like I - like I -

But then I remembered I was moving, anyway, and I would be married too, and everything seemed to stop mattering, and I fell into a shallow and restless sleep.

**PoV change: Sakura**

I was hoping he would be late so I'd have an excuse to dislike him from the start. But no, he was actually 5 minutes early, by the village clock. In fact, the whole evening was rather pleasant. Hiroshi was the perfect gentleman, or as much so as someone from the village could possibly be.

It was awful. He was funny and engaging (no pun intended), and every time I smiled my heart broke a little more, because I was acknowledging that I was betrothed.

Before I knew it, two and a half weeks had passed. They sped by in dread. Hiroshi, it seemed, had changed a lot from the brat he used to be. It killed me to see my father so smug, though.

I snapped at him one time. "Just because he's a nice guy doesn't mean I don't wholeheartedly and completely disagree with this!" I yelled, and stormed into my room, thankful I had one to storm into.

It was the day before he left. I knew if I was to see him, I would have to go today. Syaoran. Syaoran. Did I want to - should I? - go and see him?

The day ticked swiftly by, and I lay in my bed, crying myself into hysterics. "Oh, God," I cried, the muscles in my neck straining. "Oh, God! Help me," I screamed into my mattress. Exhausted, I sniffled, and realized I wasn't actually sleepy at all. I rose, and knew I could not let him go without seeing him. It was past midnight - probably about one or two in the morning, but I was perfectly awake as I snuck out of the village gate, perfectly awake as I dashed over the hills to the manor, such a familiar route, one I could not bear not taking ever again.

With practiced ease I scaled the back wall, taking care not to disrupt the guards' gentle slumber. I pulled myself up the freezing drainpipe with a bit more difficulty.

I looked in through Syaoran's window, and was met with a sheet of red velvet. What?!

I pushed the window open and slid in, clawing at the velvet. It slid open. Oh. They were curtains.

I closed and latched the window, and went over to the bed. For a moment I was fearful that I'd climbed into the wrong window. But then I saw his tousled hair and the side of his sleeping face, and I knew not only that I had the right window, but that I had done the right thing in coming.

"Wake up," I said softly.

He turned over, fully awake, and gave me a frosty look. I recoiled. "Go away," he murmured. "Stop appearing!"

"What?" I whispered. "You... don't want me here?"

He blinked, and his brow furrowed. "Wait. Sakura?"

"Yeah?"

"Is that... is that you?"

"Of course it's me," I said quietly. "What did you-"

"I'm not asleep?"

I snorted. "You sort of should be, it's 3 in the morning."

He propped himself up on a forearm. "Come here," he said. "Let me..."

As I leaned closer, his right hand reached for me. His arm could not stretch far enough, so I pulled myself onto his soft mattress, which sank under my hands and knees as if it knew their shape.

Syaoran's hand traced up and down my arm, and then to my face. He sat straight up and pulled the covers from him. He looked terrible. His eyes were rimmed with red and bloodshot, and there were unusual circles beneath them. His hair was screwed up in every way, and he had a dim 5 o'clock shadow shading his chin. But when he knelt facing me, I could only pay attention to the love on his face.

I chuckled softly, "You look awful. What have you been-"

I didn't get to finish my sentence. Syaoran practically threw himself onto me. His lips pressed against mine amid his hot breath. I lay back on the pillow and held his sweet face in my hands, my heart racing faster than it did during my 4-mile sprint to his house.

The window sprang open and blew a gust of icy air towards us, making him shiver. He was bare-chested.

He rolled away and undid some ropes on the four posts of his bed. Velvet curtains shut us into another world.

"Sakura... I am so in love with you," he murmured, curled around me protectively.

I searched for a response. Nothing could compare with his soft, sweet voice, his musical words. "I will never stop loving you," I whispered, and my eyes started to drip salty tears. We slipped beneath his heavy blankets, which felt like heaven on my chapped skin. I slipped my arms around his bare back and pressed my head to his chest miserably, sobs now slipping through my defense.

He held me as tight as possible and buried his nose in my hair. "Don't cry," he pleaded. "Don't cry."

I looked up into his face and closed my eyes as he brought up a finger to brush my tears aside, also pulling aside the veil that shadowed my glowing heart. I rolled onto his chest and kissed him furiously, hoping he could just melt into the mattress so they could not take him from me. His dark eyes burned into me and he just held me, just held me there, and our conversation was scattered for the rest of the night. We didn't sleep. My heart didn't calm down a bit.

As the sun started to rise, there was a knock on the door. "Hide!" hissed Syaoran. I slipped further beneath the covers. Syaoran got out of the bed and answered the door. I heard his father's low voice.

"Why is your bed like that?" his father demanded.

"I got cold," Syaoran said in a tone of deference.

I could almost hear his father's calculating stare. "Well, we're leaving in five hours. I expect you fully dressed and packed when the coach arrives."

"Yes, father," Syaoran said. "Is it okay if I go back to bed for a bit?"

"If you're there on time," his father said coldly, "I couldn't care less what you do."

The door shut quietly.

I slid back up from under the covers as Syaoran rejoined me.

"That's your dad?" I said uncomfortably. "He's a bit... stiff..."

Syaoran laughed and played with my hair, gazing with absolute rapture at me. "That's how he is."

There was a long pause. He continued, "You - I am going to miss you - so much."

I was absolutely mortified to see a single tear slide from his chocolate eye. "Are you - are you crying?" I said insensitively, in disbelief.

He let out a loud sniff and said, "I've been doing a lot of that lately. I thought you were a dream last night because in my dreams you always came..."

I clutched him close and kissed him softly. Kissed his nose, his swollen eyelids, his sweaty forehead, his unkempt hair, his strong jaw, his smooth ears, his beautiful face, and he slowly leaned up as I pressed my lips to his.

Before I knew it, there was the synchronized chiming of 11 o'clock by every clock in Syaoran's house. It was deafening.

It seemed like only seconds after that when the half-hour bell sounded, and then I went into hysterics.

He held my shoulders firmly. "You are a strong, beautiful, amazing woman, and I will find you, and I will never stop searching - no, shush, it's going to be okay, everything is going to be fine."

I felt him swallow. "Everything," he said with less conviction, "is going to be fine. Get married. I don't care. I'll be there for you... I will, I will."

His warm lips pressed against my forehead, and I heard a shout from his father. "Syaoran! You have fifteen minutes!"

He jumped out of the bed and I looked away, preserving his dignity as he threw on his noble clothes. He threw the rest of his clothes into a wooden suitcase and snapped its catches shut. Then he slowly folded up the drawing he had of me and tucked it into a tiny box, which he then closed and tucked into the suitcase.

Syaoran walked up to me, holding something in his hands. I could not take my eyes off his to see what he was holding.

It was the moon necklace. He reached forward and snapped it around my neck with ease, his calm gaze not leaving me.

The clock started to strike twelve. I ran into his waiting arms and smashed my lips to his. His arms gripped my back and my nose dug into his cheek, and we parted clumsily.

He grabbed his suitcase, kissed me one last time, desperately, fearfully, and sprinted out his door, amber eyes not leaving mine until he was around the corner, and then I was standing there, hearing the hurried footfalls down the steps echo away.

Forever.


End file.
